Abbondanza: Eggplant parmagiana

If there are certain dishes that are "iconic" Italian classics, eggplant parmagiana is one of them. It actually IS authentic, unlike veal, or chicken parmagiana, a classic from southern Italy.

There is a question about the naming of the dish. Why "parmagiana?" There IS parmagiana in it, but not really very much. It's a dusting on the top of the finished dish. One theory I've heard is that "Palma" is a southern dialectical word, for a roof tile, and the circles of eggplant look like roof tiles when they're cooked, so the dish was originally "melanzane alla palma." I have a friend who's last name is dePalma, so I think I will check to see what he thinks about this. I bet that he DOES like eggplant parmagiana. It's one of those foods that goes to the "heart and soul" of all of us Italians."

You can get very bad eggplant parmagiana , and you can make very GOOD eggplant parmagiana. I think that the reason why it's usually not well made in restaurants, is because this is a dish where you MUST be generous. It takes a LOT of oil, a LOT of cheese, a LOT of sauce, and a LOT of coating. And I will come to the issue of coating below. I have made it so many times, that it feels like second nature to me, but as I made it yesterday, I began to think about how someone could feel threatened by this . Ultimately, it can be a lot of work.

First, you need good tomato sauce. I have my recipe for sauce in this blog, and you will need about a quart and a half of it for my version. If you have your own sauce recipe, by all means use it.

We now come to the issue of the eggplant itself. Usually, when you get eggplant parmagiana, the eggplant has been sliced into big rounds, and then dipped, first in seasoned flour, then eggs or a mixture of eggs and milk, and finally in bread crumbs. One food writer once said "people who like breaded eggplant don't like eggplant." Well, I don't know about that. I like eggplant, and I like breaded ones. The advantage of breading eggplant, or anything else, is that you can store it, in the refrigerator, until you're ready to fry it. The disadvantage is that the breading means you will have a heavier dish than if you don't.

You CAN make eggplant parmagiana without coating the eggplant at all, and without frying it. I've had it both ways, and it just doesn't work for me. I love the breaded version, but I heard people talking about how it was just too heavy for them. Then, I watched Lidia Bastianich make it on TV once. I admire this woman tremendously. I've met her. She's warm, friendly , and she truly wants people to cook. When I was talking to her about her books, she was really truly interested in how I made them "Did you change the recipe? Why not? Make it again and change it and let me know. " A true, class act.

Well, the way she made it, she peeled and sliced the eggplant, lengthwise. And then she coated the slices in seasoned flour, and then dipped them in egg, and fried them without breading. I tried it. Now, it's the way I make mine. It's a winner.

The disadvantage of this technique, is that once you get started, you must go to a finish. If you flour a vegetable, and don't cook it, it will get gummy and disgusting. Need I say that once you dip in egg, you must do something? So if you do it this way, you have to have a big pan or pot, with about two inches of vegetable oil hot (say 350), and ready to go.

I take two, large eggplant and peel them, and then cut them into long slices. I get about eight to an eggplant. Then, I take a heaping cup of flour, seasoned with salt and pepper, and mix it all together in a bag. I toss the eggplant slices in, and just shake until they're coated. I have a bowl with four, beaten eggs ready. I also have a baking sheet, lined with paper at my side. The slices come out of the flour and go into the egg, and then immediately into the oil. I can fry about three slices at a time this way, and it takes about two or three minutes to a side.

When they're all fried, it's time to start the assembly. Preheat your oven to 375. Put a thin layer of sauce at the bottom of a heavy baking dish. Pyrex or ceramic are fine. Metal is NOT. Then, add a layer of eggplant. You don't have to make a complete layer, because you will be stacking them. After you have the eggplant down, put down slices of mozzarella, and BE GENEROUS. For two eggplant, it's not unusual for me to use a pound and a half of mozzarella. You should use good stuff , but not the best stuff for this, because the best stuff is too delicate, and too watery. After you put the cheese on the egpplant, add some more sauce, and keep on layering until you run out of everything. I usually do this in two, 9x9 inch pans, but you could also do one big 9x13 incher.

I put the pans on a baking sheet, and bake at 375, for about forty minutes. The cheese will melt and brown and it will bubble at the edges when it's done.

Did you think I forgot the parmagiana? I did not. Parmagiana burns if you put it on the food too soon, so I wait until it comes out of the oven, before I add grated parmagiana, again a GENEROUS grating, and it melts right onto the dish.

When you make eggplant parmagiana, when it first comes out of the oven, it's very wet. That's because eggplant has a lot of water, and it releases in the heat. If you let the eggplant rest for about four hours, or overnight if you can, the liquid will get resorbed, and your final dish will taste much better.

This sounds like a lot of work, and I guess on one level, it is. And it involves a lot of ingredients. But remember what we're talking about here: the word "abbondanza "is very important. This is a dish to share with people, to show generosity and appreciation. You can't eat it alone.

I think if you make it once, you'll be hooked. And it will become second nature to you, in due course.